Chapter 28 Steele
TWENTY-EIGHT
STEELE
“White forty-two! White forty-two! Set, hut!”
Our center snaps the ball into Maddox’s waiting grasp, and I take the handoff, pausing for just a split second while the offensive line attempts to open a lane.
As soon as I see a spot that’s wide enough for me to pass through, I take off, my feet pounding into the turf below.
I lower my shoulder when I see a defender heading in my direction, easily getting rid of him and grabbing a few more yards before I’m finally taken down.
It was a gain of seven yards, making it second and three with half the field between us and the end zone.
Today’s game has been a battle, to say the least. The Kansas City Kings are having the best season their franchise has seen in decades, with a roster so stacked that they have yet to lose a game on the road.
They’re the number one run defense in the league, which has proven itself to be true all day long.
I’ve struggled to break for any big plays, only gaining an average of about four yards per carry in the first half.
The third quarter hasn’t been much different, even after our offensive coordinator made adjustments at halftime.
We’re currently down by fourteen, with about twenty minutes left to turn it around.
Everyone jogs to the huddle, leaning in so Maddox can tell us what we’re doing next.
“Tank right, double jinx on two. Tank right, double jinx. Got it?” We nod in understanding, clapping in unison as we break and return to the line of scrimmage.
It’s a play action pass, which means I need to sell the fake handoff, so our receivers have time to run their routes.
Defenses are trained to decipher these kinds of plays, so even if I manage to trick them, it’ll only be for a split second before they realize what’s going on.
But Emmett and our other receiver, Champ, are really fucking good, so I’m sure one of them will find a way to get open.
“Red, seven! Red, seven! Hut, hut!” As soon as the football is in Maddox’s possession, I move forward with my arms poised to take it from him.
Instead, he allows it to hit my stomach, keeping a firm grip as I run right through it.
It gives the illusion of me taking the ball, when in reality, I never actually did.
I curl my arms around the non-existent football, getting taken to the ground by several defenders almost immediately as my quarterback looks for an open man.
Bodies roll off of me, but not fast enough to watch as Maddox makes the pass.
Thankfully, the crowd at Renegades Field is always electric, their boisterous cheers letting me know that we got the yardage we need.
Popping up as fast as I can, I find Emmett taking his last few steps around the fifteen-yard line before Kansas City’s safety manages to take him down.
We’re in the red zone now, which is my bread and butter.
No fancy plays. No jukes or spins. Just me and my body, trucking through a bunch of guys who are desperate to stop me from crossing that plane.
It’s fucking exhilarating.
We attempt another passing play, this time to Jett, who gets us another ten yards closer.
This makes my job a hell of a lot easier, leaving me a short five yards away from closing in on our deficit.
The Renegades are expected to have a pretty easy run to the playoffs this year, but with the Kings being in our conference, a win against them would certainly make things more comfortable for us.
Not to mention, we still have a lot of naysayers as a third-year expansion team, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to shut them up.
We huddle up again, and Maddox looks around, a smug grin tugging at his lips.
“You already know it, boys. Let’s open up a hole for Harlow.
Twenty-three smash on two. Twenty-three smash.
Got it?” We break, taking our spots on the line as our quarterback scans the defense.
It’s a run right up the middle, and I’m sure every one of them knows it.
But as long as our linemen hit their blocks for at least a second or two, I’m as good as in.
Maddox yells his cadence, and as soon as the snap is made, I’m securing the ball in my arms. I lower my center of gravity, making it nearly impossible to take me down as I push through the line of defenders in front of me.
With a loud grunt, I give it everything I have, bound and determined to stay upright as I power to the end zone.
And when my feet hit that purple paint, signifying a Renegades touchdown, the entire stadium goes wild.
“That’s how you fucking do it, baby!” Jett shouts as he runs up, an ear-to-ear grin splitting his face beneath his helmet.
My teammates jump all over me, their hands smacking my head and shoulders in celebration.
Normally, I’d spike the ball, but as I look around, taking in the first row of fans who are cheering like crazy, I just can’t fucking help myself.
In an instant, I’m running full speed toward the padded wall behind the goalpost and leaping over it.
About twenty sets of arms catch me, smacking my pads and cheering like we just won the Super Bowl.
That’s one thing that separates Cleveland from every other city—no matter how big or small the accomplishment, the people here are all in on their teams. And thanks to Sydney, I’m part of that now, too.
I was a mess when I got here just a few months ago.
My attitude was horrible, and I wasn’t looking at this opportunity as anything more than a stepping stone.
I went from planning my escape and not thinking the Renegades were worthy of me, to now hoping that I’m worthy of a spot with them.
As wrong as I was about them in the beginning, it’s all crystal clear to me now.
Football is more than just wins and rings.
It isn’t how big your contract is or the number of jerseys you sell.
It’s a brotherhood. It’s family. And I want this one to be mine.
I’ve come a long way, but there’s still a winding road ahead in proving to this organization that I’m a Renegade—win, lose, or tie.
SYDNEY
My heart swells as I watch the fans celebrate Steele from the WAGs’ suite, showering him with cheers and praise as he sits in their midst. If he had jumped on the wall earlier in the season, they’d have either shoved him away or beat his ass while the world watched with a very clear understanding of why.
Between his involvement in the community, his growing connection with the team, and the way he’s been playing, the city has been accepting him as one of their own.
I’m proud to be a part of it, but he’s the one who had to let his walls down and make the changes.
Things between us are as good as they can be, considering the situation.
Even though most of our friends know that something is going on between us, we’ve had to be discreet.
As much as I care about Steele, I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be seen together.
His contract is only for one year, and if my dad decides that he doesn’t approve, things could be over before they’ve really gotten a chance to begin.
Sure, I’m an adult who’s fully capable of making her own decisions, but that doesn’t mean my father will be on board with me dating one of his players.
Livvy and Maddox had a similar situation, but the only trouble he ever caused was in her defense.
He never treated anyone besides my sister’s ex with disrespect, which he absolutely deserved.
Steele raised hell here multiple times over the past two seasons, mouthing off to players and fans with absolutely no regard for anyone but himself and his Rage teammates.
But that’s not who he is now. I just need to make sure my dad sees it before I tell him what’s going on.
Otherwise, he may choose not to re-sign Steele at the end of the season, and I really don’t want him to leave.
As if I had summoned him, my father enters the suite.
I turn toward him, internally chuckling at how different he is from all the other owners in the league.
Where they’re all business in their suits and dresses, he looks like he just came from the gym, even though I know damn well that he didn’t.
On top, he’s wearing a well-worn Renegades hoodie that somehow looks older than the team itself.
It’s faded, and the bands around his wrists are beginning to fray, a telltale sign that it’s one of his favorites.
His black sweatpants say ROCK CITY in big, block letters, leading down to the most cliché pair of dad sneakers the world has ever seen.
He’s gone with a purple backwards cap to accessorize the outfit, claiming that it makes him look relatable to the players.
I couldn’t love him more if I tried, honestly.
The way he cares about this team is so admirable, and I’m truly proud to be his daughter.
“Dad! I was hoping you’d stop by!” Livvy says, rushing over and greeting him with a hug. He returns it with a giant smile, going down the line and saying hello to Bailey, Stella, Finley, and baby Norah before taking the empty seat next to me.
“Never thought I’d see the day where my little girl was so enthralled by a football game that she wasn’t the first to say hello.” He nudges my shoulder, and I roll my eyes playfully, leaning into him.
“Yeah,” I reply, looking down just as Theo swats the ball, preventing a Kings player from catching it. “Maybe I’m a fan now.”
He chuckles, his gaze falling to the Renegades sideline before he turns to me with a lifted brow. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain football player, would it?”